Rocket Scientists, Needle-Nosed Pliers And Krispy Kreme Donuts ... Part II

Rocket Scientists, Needle-Nosed Pliers And Krispy Kreme Donuts ... Part II

Okay lemme get back to this really big gripe I need to squelch....

Pulling a soap box over and stepping up on it....

Getting out a megaphone...

Clearing my throat....

Sam Walton clones 6,200 Sunshine Grannies.

The lady with the purple hair was there again, smiling with her "I Love Lucy" lips and black painted-on eyebrows. She must work opposite me, because she is always here when I walk in. You know who I'm talking about. Everyone has seen her there. She's the incessantly joyful Wal-Mart greeter. It doesn't matter which Wal-Mart I walk into, she's always there. Always a smile. I looked her in the eye as she offered me a shopping cart with a cheery smile. I was about to ask her if she farts sunshine, and burps rainbows, but I just smiled and said, "Thank you, have a nice day!" and I entered to get my Needle-Nosed Pliers. As I walked past the concession stand my cart ran smack dab right into the Film Drop Off Center because I was looking at the newest video on display. Why did I take Granny Sunshine's offered cart you wonder? For two reasons. One: It holds my purse as I shop ... hey it gets heavy! And two, it deters people from invading my space. I hate when I'm looking on a shelf and someone reaches over or around me. Stretching stinky armpits closer and closer. So I always accept the gift of a shopping cart. I create my own little world in Wally World. Thank you Granny Sunshine.

Why do they stick displays of goodies, the best goodies in front of fat ladies???

I meander when I shop. Men hate this. I like to look. I usually remember that I need things when I meander. Then I saw them, there on the right stood the most delicious, most tantalizing treat my mouth could hope for....an entire display of cream filled chocolate frosted Krispy Kreme donuts. I stopped and felt the boxes. I counted the yummy treats in each box. Six. Six thrilling donuts in each box. I stroked the side on the box where the flaps meet. I caressed the cellophane until it sang to me. Then I walked away. NO! I wasn't going to succumb to the seduction. Butt. Thighs. Chins.... I chanted my mantra. Butt, Thighs, Chins....buttthighschinsbuttthighschins. I nearly ran over the Hallmark Man stocking the shelves as I ran from the display. Krispy Kreme should be ashamed of themselves putting these mmmm delicious, mmmm delightful, mmmm dreamy donuts in a huge stack in front of fat women. Jeez, I was ticked off as I headed toward the tool section. Now I couldn't think of anything except those damn (sweet decadent) donuts.

Houdini reincarnated as a box of Krispy Kremes.

I forced myself into the tool isle and found a super heavy duty pair of needle-nosed pliers. These have a flexible handle with a soft grip. They looked much sturdier, more ... manly than the ones my daddy called shit. I turned to put them in my cart, and there sitting all alone in my cart was one flapped, cellophaned green and white printed box of six Krispy Kreme cream filled, chocolate frosted donuts. I was to say the least, surprised to see them there. I took them into my shaking hands. My eyes darted around, cautiously looking for the culprit who put these perfect pastries in my cart. I slowly let out my breath and placed the box, ever so gently atop of toolboxes and just to the left of a rack of hammers. I quietly turned my cart and left the tool isle.

Floral printed, scented trash bags, boy do I need those!

The thought of the mysterious donuts wouldn't leave me as I carted through the store. I needed some garbage bags. So I headed that way. As I meandered, I looked at candles, lamps, electronics, shoes and passed a air freshener display. I hooked a right and directed my cart into the paper goods isle. I was still a little bewildered over the appearance of those donuts. Don't think too much on it I told myself. I looked for the garbage bags I need. How many ways can a person throw away trash? A huge array of bags, scented, colored, twisty-tie, floral printed, large, larger and huge were stacked on the shelves.. I chose my standard white with red tie handles. I put them in my cart, next to the needle-nosed pliers and ... "What the heck is going on here?!?!" Donuts!... in my cart! I left them sitting on top of toolboxes and here they were again!

Sunshine and hot pavement clear my head.

I left them in the possessed cart and grabbed up the garbage bags and the needle-nosed pliers in my hands. Damn the stinky armpits, damn my personal space, damn my purse shoulder. I had to get a jar of spaghetti sauce and get the heck outta here. One more isle and I can be gone. Done with thoughts of mystifying magically appearing donuts. I strode purposefully to the check-out counter. With three items I could go through the fast lane. I paid for my things. $28.36 seemed a lot for what I bought, but my daddy needed a pair of needle-nosed pliers that weren't for shit, so I guess you have to pay for what you get. I took the bag and left, walking half a mile to the doors I entered though. I glanced at the commanding display of cream filled, chocolate frosted Krispy Kreme donuts on the way out the self opening doors, and I guess I gave a little shriek because Granny Sunshine asked me, with her ever present smile, if I was okay. Yeah, I'm fine...now. I got out in the sunny parking lot and was fine.

Spaghetti is on the menu for dinner tonight.

I got home and put my bag on the table. I left it there as I went about my routine of the evening. Thoughts of donuts pursuing me gone from head as I pulled out the makings of dinner. I needed the spaghetti sauce for my dinner and I finally got around to emptying the bag. Garbage bags...check. Spaghetti sauce ...check. Needle-nosed pliers .. check. The bag still had something in it......you guessed it, one box of cream filled, chocolate frosted Krispy Kreme donuts. How they got in there I'll never know. I ran away from them the store. I hid them in the tool isle. I raced from them in the paper-goods department. Yet here they are, in that trademarked green and white box. Cellophane glinting rainbows across my kitchen as I looked at them.

Dinner is served.

I skipped the spaghetti and had donuts for dinner. There are still two more in the box on the counter in the kitchen ... for tomorrow I tell myself. I'm wondering if the next time I go to Wal-Mart, I use the opposite set of doors, the door where the flowers are on display ... if I'll find a fragrant bouquet in my bag when I get home? I doubt it.

I am smiling...

love me later ... tj